


Truth in the moment

by rufferto



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe but not too much, Errant spells, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Pining, Romance, allison is alive, jealous!chris, oblivious!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufferto/pseuds/rufferto
Summary: Prompt from the very talented @moonlettuce on tumblr "A spell goes wrong and Peter ends up bonded to Chris. Said spell causes Peter pain every time he does something that makes Chris unhappy with him, so he has to work out how to keep Chris happy while still being his sarcastic self. (And, yes, it takes him a little while to realize that him flirting with other people makes Chris unhappy.)"





	1. Chapter 1

Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no younger  
Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home  
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin'  
Your prison is walking through this world all alone

-Desperado "Eagles"

Peter grimaced at the taste in his mouth. He woke up disoriented, too many new smells wafting around him. He didn’t know this place. It was comfortable though and toasty warm inside the big bed. He buried his face into the sheets and didn’t want to wake up. The smell was delicious and all over him. It felt warm, soft and made him feel safe. It wasn’t a feeling that he had often. Actually, he couldn’t remember a time he’d felt it since before the fire. If he woke up the illusion would shatter. The tantalizing smell of gun oil and the spicy scent of predictable aftershave would disappear. He would be alone again in his hotel room in San Fransisco, far away from the madness of Beacon Hills.

“Someone had to,” A terse, familiar voice could be heard in the hallway beyond. Christopher Argent’s voice. “I couldn’t just let him die, Derek….” There was a pause, “Of course not! I’m perfectly safe. Peter’s a lot of things, but if he was going to kill me he had plenty of chances to….No you don’t need to come over and I’ll ask him. I…seriously doubt it.”

He didn’t want to hear the other side of the conversation so he just didn’t listen anymore. Now he knew where he was. Christopher Argent’s apartment. He wracked his brain to make sense of it.

There was a frustrated sound from the hallway. “Look, I’m not in the mood for this conversation.” Chris sounded tired and extremely annoyed. At least it was with his nephew and not with him. That was something. “Cut the drama, I’m too old for that shit. Your Uncle is back, figure it out. Goodbye Derek.”

Peter peeked out from the covers at the very manly room that was Chris Argent’s master bedroom. Gun magazines stacked by the bed, too. A blend of dark and muted colors with more taste than he imagined Chris having. Some artwork, probably left over from Argent’s house. Mahogany and maple furniture. Every single piece of it for practical use only. The bed was a sturdy sleigh bed by a large window with space from the wall in case it was necessary. The bedroom itself had two exits, not one.

He fought to remember details. The last thing he remembered was being in his favorite bar in San Fransisco and meeting a lovely red-head with burning green eyes.

_Who knew his name, oh fuck!_

Peter shot straight up in bed and looked around wildly. His pants were on, boots off. Wallet and personal effects neatly set nearby. His shirt? Gone and nowhere to be immediately located. Damn, it was designer and one of his favorites.

“You awake?” Chris asked and managed to loom in the doorway of his own bedroom. He was showered and dressed so it was impossible to tell if anything had happened.

Witches. Witches had found in him San Fransisco, captured him and dragged him back to Beacon Hills.

Now he remembered. He also remembered being surprised that the pack had bothered to come. There was a fight. Everyone had taken part. The witch had been trying to capture Scott McCall for her daughter and had a spell prepared for him. Peter had seen Chris about to take the hit and had got in the way.

The spell had hit Peter with full force and he’d gone down. It was one part certain death magic and one part something he couldn't put his finger on. It had wrapped around him and _squeezed_. He'd seen stars, choked and struggled but couldn't get out of it until it had him on his knees and blood was draining from his body. There was confusion because everyone had thought he’d taken a hit for the Alpha but he’d really taken it for Chris. He remembered looking up at the hunter as he started losing consciousness. He remembered Chris telling him to stay the fuck awake.

He remembered smiling and staring up into his eyes like he was a goddamned angel. There was blood in his mouth. He remembered reaching up and touching his face. His knuckles had brushed against Chris’ cheek with the entire pack watching. “Don’t cry for me, Christopher.” He’d told him, then everything went black.

Peter pulled the covers back over his head. “What spell did she hit me with?”

“We don’t really know all the details yet,” Chris sounded tired. “You slept a lot. Nearly thirty-six hours actually. I thought maybe…” His voice trailed off and sounded strained. “But Melissa said you were just sleeping. Anyway, are you hungry?”

“How does Scott attract so many people wanting to kill him?” Peter muttered as he sat up. “Starving,” he nodded.

“He’s the Alpha of Beacon Hills,” Christopher shrugged.

“So you brought me home to sleep it off? Where's my shirt?” Peter stood up and stretched languidly. He could feel Chris’ eyes on him.

“Your shirt was toast, sorry.” Chris shrugged as he looked away. “Derek brought one from the loft.”

“Damn, I liked that shirt.” Peter sighed. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Knock yourself out. I’ll make coffee and food.”  Chris turned and headed to the kitchen.

Peter stood in the bathroom, confused and suspicious about how nice the hunter was being.  Try as he might he couldn’t remember anything else. He washed his face and smoothed back his hair. He thought about getting into the shower but he liked being covered in Chris’ scent. He smelled good. He put on the shirt Derek had brought over. Maybe he’d just take a shower later, he decided as he stalked the kitchen.

Chris was making a simple meal. Eggs and bacon. Peter chuckled under his breath, “remind me someday to teach you how to cook, Christopher.”

“You’ll eat it and like it,” Chris smirked and slid the omelet into his plate.

Coffee was already in a mug by the plate.

He sat down and stared dubiously at Chris. “Okay, so what happened?” Peter prompted.

“You got hit by…”

Peter put a hand up. “I’m not talking about the spell.”

“What?” Chris gave him a disgruntled look. “Nothing that bears repeating.”

“Did anything happen between us? Did I do anything?” Peter reached for Chris’ arm but the man snatched it away immediately.

Chris glared at him defiantly, “No.”

“Good,” Peter said flippantly and breathed a sigh of relief.

Chris’ lips pressed into a thin line of supreme annoyance that seemed to come out of nowhere. He grabbed the pan from the stove and practically flung it into the sink.

It had to have been the sound the pan made as it connected to the stainless steel. Peter cringed at the pain that suddenly shot through his brain. He dropped his head in his hands and whimpered. It hurt so much he felt temporarily blinded.

“Shit, Peter, are you okay?” Chris turned around immediately and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, then his head.

Chris’ fingers in his hair absolutely should not feel that good. Peter gripped the edge of the counter blinking hard. The room slowly came back into focus when he centered on Chris’ voice.

_What the actual fuck?_

“Fine, I’m fine.” Peter jerked his head away from Chris. He tackled the meal and ignored the hunter. It was the only way he was going to survive another minute in that apartment. “Probably just hungry. Anyone looking into what I was hit with?”

“Deaton and Stiles are researching.” Chris responded flatly.

“I feel _so_ much better now.” Peter rolled his eyes and stared as Chris hummed in concern and refilled his coffee.

He could not get out of there fast enough. Once he finished breakfast, he shut the door and fled. That had been the most awkward morning of his life. He left with the intention of getting as far away from Chris Argent as possible. He was a lying liar, because something _had_ happened. Peter could feel it. Maybe Chris was trying to spare him, but he didn’t like being lied to. He had done something. He just knew it.

What the fuck had he done?

A little while later he was on his way to the Bus Stop back to San Fransisco. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a new bookstore and became intrigued. A few hours later he’d missed the last bus. He contemplated stealing a car at that point and found himself calling the superintendent of his apartment building to tell him he was moving back in.  His apartment currently had no furniture since he’d moved all of it to San Fransisco, then sold it in order to cover his tracks. He’d planned on selling this place too but no one bit.

He’d never intended to return to Beacon Hills.

There was nothing and no one here who wanted him. 

Scott had grudgingly told him he was part of the pack so he wasn’t technically an Omega anymore but he still…didn’t want to be here.

Why was he staying?

His skin itched again. He paced and pulled out his cellphone. He almost called Derek and tossed the phone on the counter instead. He’d bought a few things to get him through the night. He picked the phone back up and brought up Chris’ number. He didn’t dial it.

An air mattress was a far cry from a comfortable sleigh bed wrapped in the delicious scent of a man who he could never have but it would have to do. He’d finally taken a shower and mourned the loss of Chris’ scent with a bottle of Jack and some wolfsbane.

There was no point in dwelling on things like that and Peter was the pragmatic sort. He didn’t pine. He got his shit together in record time. Shopping and decorating? This was the stuff of dreams and he was good at it. So the days rolled by and his skin kept itching. He didn’t contact anyone. Why bother? If they wanted to find him they knew where to look. They had his phone. It wasn’t until four days later when he had to stop at a grocery store and stop himself from hyperventilating that he knew something was really wrong with him. 

Still, he would rather claw the skin off of his face than attend a pack meeting but there it was. A terse text from Derek.

“We know you stayed in town. Get your ass here.”

Peter sighed and took his time. He had planned on going out that night, finding a good piece of ass and getting laid. That’s what he needed to sort himself out. A good, honest fuck. It would loosen up the cobwebs in his head and set things straight so he could think again. He showed up at the bottom of the loft and looked up at it. He knew they were all there. He knew they were waiting for him and had dragged his feet getting there. He checked his watch. If he ran, he could make the last bus.  He had an open ticket.

Not tonight wasn’t an excuse he could use. They didn’t care if he was on edge. No one had even visited him in San Fransisco. Well, Stiles had once, but that was only to make sure he was still alive.

Chris Argent was there.

Peter saw his truck parked outside.

With a long suffering sigh he prepared himself to deal with the children and started moving up the staircase.

“You need to say something!” Derek was nearly shouting at someone.

“No he doesn’t.  Sit down, Derek.” Scott’s angry voice was hard to miss. “Also, Peter’s here.”

All eyes were on him when he slid the door open of the loft.

“Yes, I’m still in town.” Peter rolled his eyes, “Don’t everyone welcome me home at once.”

Chris gave him a disappointed look and his skin prickled.

“Has anyone killed the Witch yet or is that why you so nicely asked me to be here?  Good thing Uncle Peter’s back, let’s see if he’ll kill someone for us.”  Peter made for the bar nearly immediately. He hoped Derek still kept it well-stocked. “Do carry on,” he waved at the group. “Say whatever it is you want from me and I’ll be on my way.”

He would have laughed at their faces but he didn’t feel like caring. Peter knew Chris was in the room but the wolf refused to look at him. His skin was itching badly now and he was having the worst time concentrating so he hoped they would make it quick. He needed to be out of there. “I have a date, so I’d appreciate if you’d make it fast…”

Shooting pain slammed through his eyes. He gripped the edge of the bar to steady himself and focus. He would not show weakness to this group of mangy supernatural rejects plus a few humans. He forced himself upright only to look directly into the eyes of a furious Chris Argent.

“ _You_ ’re in _no_ condition to _date_ an innocent.” Chris snapped at him.

“I’m perfectly fine, Argent.” Peter snarled back at him. 

“You’re not here because we want you to do anything, Peter.” Scott started. “We’re actually…Um.”

Lydia of all people was the one who finally spit it out.  “Oh for Christ sake, Scott. Peter the good news is we know what spell you were hit with. The bad news is that it is irreversible and was meant for Scott so that the Witch could hold it over him.”

“Spit it out.” Peter was going to pass out from pain anyway if they didn’t but at least he wouldn’t have to continue listening to the inane chatter of children who hated him.

“It was a bonding spell.” Scott muttered uncomfortably.

“WHAT?” Peter snarled.

“A bonding spell.” Lydia smirked. “A bit ironic, but what can you do. Paybacks a bitch.”

“Who am I bonded to?” Peter glared at the group.

“Him,” Lydia pointed gleefully at Christopher Argent as if it was the best joke in the universe. “Sorry, Mr Argent.”

Chris’ anger had settled and Peter felt the pain lesson. Now he just looked uncomfortable and Peter couldn’t blame him. He felt like someone had just driven a pole into his chest. He’d lick his internal wounds later in private. For now, for now he plastered an unconcerned look on his face.

“Basically you can’t make Chris mad.” Stiles grinned at Peter. “If you do, it’ll hurt. A lot.”

“I hate to break it to you idiots, but that’s hardly the extent of a bonding spell.” Peter snorted. “At least that explains the itching. Could be worse I suppose, could have been Derek. He’s angry at me _all_ the time. Chris is easy, I’ll just buy him the latest gun every now and…”

Fuck. That hurt. Peter _glared_ at Chris.  “Sorry?” Peter tried.

Chris just rubbed the back of his neck and looked morosely at the beer in his hands. “Are you sure there’s no way to break it?” He asked Stiles.

“Deaton says no. Killing the Witch isn’t going to work. Sometimes they can be undone but not without great cost.”

“Great, what’s her address? I’m going to go rip her head off.” Peter stood up and promptly fell to the floor under Chris’ glare.

“At least we have a way to manage Peter now?” Lydia, that witch, cackled.

“When I get out of this, I’m going to kill _you_ first.” Peter muttered.

Chris sighed and looked like he was even unhappier than Peter. Nevertheless, he stood up and went over to help Peter to his feet.  “I’ll try not to let your mouth get to me. Just, you try too.”

Peter let himself be picked up and nodded. He was still 99% certain something had happened between them that night but bringing it up might get him dosed with another internal Taser. Instead he summoned as adorable and innocent a smile as he could. It was probably safest if he kept his mouth shut.

He had no idea how he was going to keep Chris happy but at least now he knew why he had stuck around. That was the bond. It wouldn’t let him leave Chris.

“Fantastic.” Peter sighed. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Everyone opened their mouth at once.

Peter rubbed his face.

*

The problem with keeping Chris happy was that Peter didn’t know what Chris liked apart from weapons. He also didn’t know if anything had happened between them. So he opted for tactical retreat. As long as he stayed close enough that the bond wouldn’t make his skin itch for contact he was good. He felt a bit like a stalker because there were days when he just needed to see the man. Even if it was from two blocks away hiding behind a bush. As long as he reassured himself the man was living and breathing he could get through the worst of it.

The first week he kept his distance was easy. He did not show up for the pack meeting, he made weak excuses and chatted on video. As far as he could tell Chris was doing his best to keep his distance as well though every time he saw the hunter he looked depressed. He wanted badly to run up to him and ask what was wrong and how he could help.  He almost did once and had to bang his head into a wall to stop.

The second week was worse. He’d wake up sweating and need to blast hot and cold water on his skin to calm down.

The third week had him watching Chris daily just to be in the same vicinity of him. If he inhaled in just the right manner and the wind was right he could almost smell him. Every so often the hunter would look up and around as though he knew someone was following him.

By the fourth week he was starting to get pathetic.  When Chris parked his car for the night Peter would make sure he was done with it and break into the front seat. He would curl up and absorb the man’s scent. Unfortunately, he miscalculated one night and fell asleep in the driver’s seat and wasn’t fast enough to escape.

Chris stood there at the door of his garage and blinked. He rubbed his face and gave Peter a tired look. “Really? So you have been following me. I thought it was you.”

Peter scrambled to the passenger side of the truck when Chris opened the door.

“I’m not mad at you, Peter.” Chris assured him softly. “I know it’s the bond making you do this. If you want you can hang out with me today. Just sit there, I’ll go get you some coffee. If you’re not here when I get back, I’ll understand.”

Peter stayed.

Chris looked relieved when he returned and Peter was still there. “Here.” He gave Peter coffee and a couple of muffins.  “Drink, Eat. I’ve a couple of stops to make.” 

Peter slowly began to feel better. He listened to Chris talk on his phone, followed him to various deals and gun demonstrations for potential buyers. He watched him run errands, go to the bank and do all the various mundane things he did.  It was strangely therapeutic and calming. He felt loads better by lunchtime and was ravenous.

They didn’t talk much. Peter was not in the mood to talk. He offered one word answers or snarked about people. He just wanted to be near Chris. What he really wanted was for his body to smell like Chris but that would involve sleeping in his bed. Sleeping in his truck had been the next best thing. By the end of the afternoon he was feeling himself again. “Well, I’ll see you.” Peter took the first opportunity to exit the truck once he started feeling normal again.

“Peter, wait.” Chris called to him.

“What for? I think I’ve had enough humiliation for one day.”  Peter said sharply. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Argent. I’ve got things to do.”

“I know this isn’t much fun for you. Can we talk?” Chris gestured up to his apartment.

“No,” Peter snapped and left.

Chris sighed and stared after him. He ran his fingers through his hair and Peter looked back to watch him bury his face in his hand. The action confused him. Why should it matter to Chris? He should not care that much. He grunted as he felt a dull pain throbbing at the back of his head. He wouldn’t get far if that continued.

Peter spun on his heel, marched back to the truck and wrenched Chris’ door open. “Fine, let’s talk.”

Chris smiled, “Sorry.”

“No you are not.” Peter groused. He marched towards the apartment building and seemed to just expect Chris to follow.

On the way up the elevator Peter hugged stayed on the opposite side.

“Beer?” Chris pulled a couple out of the fridge.

Peter took one and slouched on a stool in Chris’ kitchen. He refused to look at the hunter, instead he focused on the intimidating hunter décor and thought of all the wonderful ways in which it could be improved with a touch more color. Especially a color that weren’t all warm colors. Warm colors made him dizzy. He flipped off the beer cap and drank half down.

The intoxicating smell of Chris … Chris … Chris… everywhere was making him dizzy.

“Let’s start with this. I have done some research on this and your condition is my fault.” Chris said gruffly as he took a long sip of his own beer.

“Exactly what do you mean by that?” Peter’s eyes narrowed.

“Apparently the spell imprinted on me because I was the most…affected when you were dying.” Chris swallowed. “I may have… You were dying, Peter. I didn’t have a choice.”

“What did you do? I KNEW it. I knew something happened.” Peter crowed indignantly.

“I kissed you back to life.” Chris muttered darkly.

“You what?” Peter caught his breath, aghast. 

“You were dying, and Scott terrorized the witch into telling us how to save you. She didn’t mention the bonding part.” Chris rubbed the back of his neck. “We didn’t find out until later. I kissed you and the spell did the rest.”

“You kissed me.” Peter repeated carefully as though he wanted to make absolutely certain that he understood. “On the cheek?”

“On the lips, Peter. There was tongue. You whimpered and clung to me. The children told me it was epic.” Chris looked resigned. “I…wasn’t unaffected.”

“Other people saw!?!” Peter blanched. “They all know!”

“Everyone knows, Peter. Derek has been badgering me to tell you for weeks.” Chris swallowed down the rest of his beer. “I didn’t think it was a good idea. You clearly don’t remember and were better off not knowing.”

“You decided this for me, did you?” Peter’s claws came out, anger boiled in his chest. It explained a lot. The bond was drawing him to Chris because of the kiss. It was what had caused the complete mess of his emotions. This was worse than he’d imagined.  He grabbed the beer bottle and smashed it against the wall.

“Peter…calm down.” Chris wisely edged back.

“Calm down? I am calm. I’m dead calm. I didn’t claw this table in half, did I? I’m that calm.” Peter growled. “I suggest…” He stood up. “I suggest you figure out how to get me out of this. In the meantime. I know exactly what I’m going to do.”

“What are you going to do?” Chris had one hand on a gun.

“I’m going out. I’m going to find someone and I’m going to fuck them. Maybe two people, maybe three. That might at least get you out of my fucking system for a little while.” Peter turned on his heel. “And you’re not going to get angry or annoyed with me for it. You’re going to be fucking happy I’m not throwing YOU against a wall because that would end in tears.” He paused and his lips curled into a ruthless snarl. “Yours.”

With that, Peter smashed out of the apartment, leaving the door on its hinges, furious.

Chris really couldn’t blame him. He groaned and picked up the phone to call Derek.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think.:)

Peter did, in fact, have sex. Twice. Then a third time during the next Pack meeting out of spite so he could say he was busy fucking someone. All different people who had no idea who he was, of course. One man, two women who were eagerly anticipating a return call at least. He was still angry because he had sex three times in one week and he still couldn’t get Chris out of his skin. He still had to see the man but he kept his distance this time. Seeing him? He would wait at a curb for Chris to turn around finally and look in his direction. He wanted Chris to see him. It was petty and stupid, he knew but he didn’t fucking care.

Derek called him finally instead of sending a text.

“Peter what the hell are you doing?” Derek barked into the phone.

“I’m not here because I want to be.” Peter snapped into the phone. “Any progress on my situation?”

“No, but…”

“Then we have nothing to talk about.”

“PETER. Just listen goddamnit.” Derek shouted. “Allison is back from her trip and worried about her father. She says he doesn’t sleep.”

“And that is my problem, why?” Peter lifted a brow.

“She thinks you should come to the meeting tonight. It would give Chris a chance to see you. Talk to you. I know you think your pride is wounded but he clearly…” Derek ground out. “ _Likes_ you.”

Peter would laugh but he didn’t feel like it. Truth was, he longed to be in the same room as Chris again. He had used every idea he could think of to not give in and crawl up to Chris on his hands and knees and beg to be wrapped up in his arms or at least his blanket. He missed his scent.

“Melissa is bringing food. Its potluck and just the pack getting together.” Derek tried again. “You like Melissa.”

That was true. He did like Melissa. Ever since he’d apologized to her she sort of treated him with caution but he’d gotten past the mad mom phase. He’d even helped her shop for a date once before he’d left to San Fransisco.

“Fine,” Peter grumbled. He looked at the young man who he’d just thoroughly fucked. “Can I bring my date?”

“Jesus, Peter.” Derek growled.

“I’m not coming alone.” Peter said obstinately.

“Okay, fine, whatever. Bring her…him…it.” Derek slammed down the phone.

“It?!?” Peter stared incredulously at the phone and chucked it on a table.

He ran a hand through his hair. He should bring…whatever his name was just to prove he hadn’t been spending the week twiddling his thumbs. Which he didn’t do. He actually did stock markets and other financial related things rebuilding the Hale wealth. Instead, he ended up kicking whatever his name was out and dressed his in his best.

There wasn’t really that much he could do with perfection, however.

Peter sauntered into the loft. “I brought booze.” He cheerfully held up a couple of bottles from his personal collection of ten year old scotch. “Anyone still in high school can’t have any.”

Chris was already there and looked…haggard. Peter tried to pretend he didn’t care.

“Thought you were bringing someone?” Melissa waved at Peter from the kitchen. “I set another plate.”

“He had someone else to do.” Peter quipped. “And wasn’t ready for the werewolf scene. Good evening, Melissa, you look divine I must say.”

Scott made gagging noises.

Melissa laughed at him, “Oh that’ll happen … never in this lifetime.”

Peter finger wiggled at everyone else and set down the scotch. He poured a few tumblers and took them around. One for Derek, one for Melissa, himself and the Sheriff. The other he took over to Chris. Chris was sitting down as calm as can be.

Chris fixed Peter with a nonplussed stare and the werewolf caught it and deflected it with a roll of his shoulder. He set the glass down, straightened and offered a sugary sweet smile. Chris unclenched his hands, took the tumbler and drank. “Thanks,” he nodded mildly.

Peter sat down right next to the man and their legs touched.  “Why fight it? I’m going to be here a while.” He draped an arm around Chris’ shoulders and sniffed his neck. “Might as well get it over with. Mmm… you smell good.”  The fun part was that Chris let him do it. He didn’t flinch back or pull away and he simply let Peter do what he wanted and didn’t get mad.

If the others noticed they didn’t say anything. They talked about the usual things and made loose plans about hunting whatever was the monster of the week happened recently.

Peter sat as close as possible to Chris. He’d rub his arm occasionally and even once buried his face into his shirt and brushed his cheek against it. Chris just let him. The rest of the group tried hard to ignore the pair of them and Peter’s antics. As for Peter he did everything he could think of sort of crawling into Chris’ lap. Nothing got a rise out of the hunter. Finally, he gave up and headed to the kitchen where Melissa was cleaning up.

“I can help with that,” Peter offered and she gave him a surprised look. The others were watching a movie now. “What? Far be it from me to let a beautiful woman do this all by herself.”

“Thank you Peter,” Melissa grinned at him since no one else was helping. “You going to talk to Chris or just torture him all night?”

“Why? He seems fine to me.” Peter glanced over at the couch to where Chris was staring at his drink.

“He’s not fine, Peter. You should have seen the look on his face earlier today when you mentioned bringing your date to Derek and Derek told him to prepare for it.”

“You’re imagining things,” Peter shook his head. “Chris Argent does not have a … What do the young people call it these days? … ‘Thing’ for me. Pretty sure he can’t wait to get rid of me.”

“Oh really?” Melissa laughed. “For the smartest werewolf in the room, you really are an idiot.” She tossed a dishtowel at Peter and giggled at his affronted look when it hit him in the face.

Once they were done with the dishes Peter wandered back into Chris’ personal space. He was certainly confused when Chris simply opened up an arm and let him curl up. He let the hunter stroke his hair and his eyes lidded slightly while they watched the movie. It felt wonderful.

The contact had been great but not so much for his self-esteem. He didn’t enjoy being vulnerable. He didn’t like depending on Chris Argent of all people so he kept resisting. Over the next several weeks he drew it out as long as he possibly could before his body forced him to plaster himself against the hunter. He could tell Chris was getting fed up with his attempts to wait as long as possible and then glom him. To his credit, he didn’t resist said gloms and Peter had a grudging respect for that. He would bring Chris things to make up for it. His favorite coffee, rare beer, the occasional bottle of scotch.  Chances were that if he brought something Chris liked it would lessen the chance that he’d get annoyed so the new plan was to keep him buttered up. That way Peter could get his fix, not get brain fried and not have to actually talk to the man.

He did TRY to fuck Chris out of his system. It didn’t work. No matter what he did he couldn’t actually easily… Peter rubbed his face. Well, he was having a hard time coming. It would eventually get there but not without thinking about Chris and evidently people didn’t like being called someone else’s name. It was really starting to get frustrating. That and he hated living in Beacon Hills.  It was filled with too many reminders.

It was just after one such night that he found himself pacing in the rain outside a bar that Chris frequented. It had been two weeks since the last time he’d buried his face in Chris’ neck and inhaled to his heart’s content. He needed it badly.

He knew Chris was in the bar but he wasn’t alone. He was with some hunter buddies and Peter wasn’t about to interrupt that. The next pack meeting wasn’t until Friday and Peter wasn’t sure he could last that long. The rain was getting harder but he couldn’t leave. He had to wait. Chris didn’t have his truck either, so that meant he’d been driven there by someone else and Peter wanted to find out who but he couldn’t go in there.  Of course he thought about calling him but he hadn’t once done that. Not yet. Unfortunately the cold appeared to be getting to him far more than he realized. He shivered and sneezed.

“What the hell…?” Peter had never sneezed from being chilled in his life. He leaned against a pole and wiped at the rain on his face miserably. He was a werewolf. Werewolves did not get sick. Werewolves were strong and manly and in complete control of their faculties.

“Peter?” Called someone from a car that rolled out next to him.

He turned to look and blinked when he saw Melissa’s curious face and tried to stop his teeth from chattering.

“I thought that was you. What are you doing in the rain? You’ll catch cold.” The nurse gave him an exasperated look. She reached over to open her passenger door. “Get in. You’re soaked through.”

“Why do you care?” Peter snapped.

“Peter Hale, get your ass in the damn car.” Melissa used a very stern mom voice. It was worse than the Alpha voice and the little boy inside him who missed his elder sister caved.

He complied, scowling the entire time.

Melissa ignored the scowl reached back to the backseat and pulled over a blanket. She tossed it at Peter, “Here, you’re freezing.” She also turned up the heat in the car.

“I’m a werewolf.” Peter stated stubbornly as he gazed over at the bar. He could go in and drag Chris out. He could…

“I’m a nurse and I know potential hypothermia when I see it. Blanket now.”

“I’m not…” Peter mumbled. “I’m fine. I’m…” He pulled the blanket around his body and felt a little better. She was right, apparently.

“Your lips are almost blue. I’m taking you home.” Melissa turned on the car.  “My home.”

Peter curled up in the blanket too tired, cold and miserable to care anymore. He didn’t care that she called to make sure Scott was home and ready for them. He didn’t care that she’d reached over and tucked the blanket over a shoulder and decided to let Melissa take care of him.

Scott was waiting at the door when Melissa arrived with Peter. “Seriously?” Scott grumbled.

“Believe me, I would love to be out of your hair.” Peter snorted. “But I can’t exactly go back to The City.”

“I don’t want that,” Scott stepped aside and let him in. “Beacon Hills is your home, you don’t need to leave.”

It was his usual argument since the boy didn’t get it so Peter ignored him because he didn’t want to go into that conversation. He just let Melissa direct him wherever she wanted to. Eventually she got him to get out of his wet clothes and into a pair of pajama pants that used to belong to Scott’s father and on the couch wrapped up in blankets. Scott made hot chocolate and sat down next to him. That was how he wound up using The Very Uncomfortable Alpha as his own personal hot water bottle while they watched TV. This wasn’t exactly where he’d expected to find himself that evening but at least it was comfortable.

And that is where he still was when Chris Argent walked in. Half asleep and curled up against Scott McCall. Melissa was a smart woman and called him as soon as Peter was comfortable and dozing.

“He’s all yours.” Scott hurriedly maneuvered himself out from Peter’s grip and fled as quickly as possible.

Peter blinked sleepily and eyed Chris.

“Hi,” Chris said as he sat down in Scott’s place.

“Oh, it’s you. Go away. I was comfy. At the very least take off the guns and jacket.” Peter snarked.

Chris rolled his eyes but did it anyways. “Alright, Primadonna. What’s it going to take to get you to call me when you’re like this?”

“You were busy,” Peter shrugged.

“You have my number.” Chris curled his arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Come on, take what you need.”

Peter slipped his hand under Chris’ shirt and pressed it against his stomach without thinking. For a brief moment he reveled in the warmth of the man, longed to strip his shirt off and get naked together. But…t herein lied the problem. He snatched his hand away as soon as that thought surfaced. He’d almost missed the sharp intake of breath. “My bad, I got carried away. Please don’t fry my brain. I’m really tired and Melissa wouldn’t want to have to clean up the mess.”

“I don’t do it on purpose!” Chris muttered and ruffled Peter’s hair. “You’re just really good at being really irritating. But lately you’ve been fine. So, why didn’t you call me?”

“It’s …” Peter couldn’t figure out how to explain. “It’s getting worse.”

“What do you mean worse?” Chris frowned slightly. “Worse how?”

“Well what would you call having sex and calling someone by a name that isn’t theirs? Not good, I tell you.. … what….?” Peter blinked at Chris’ expression. “Shit, you’re getting mad. I’m sorry?” He looked at Chris fearfully and was ready to spring away from him.

“I’m not mad.” Chris responded flatly. “What were you calling them?”

“Who?”

“The name, Peter.” Chris’ grip on Peter’s shoulder tightened.

“You.” Peter hid his face in Chris’ shirt. “I can’t get you out of my head. I’m sorry, I’ve tried everything. I give up.”

Chris exhaled and didn’t say anything for a long time. Long enough that it began to make Peter nervous. “It’s the bond.” Chris said at last and somewhat sadly. “I understand.” He stroked Peter’s hair gently. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“What have you got to be sorry for? You saved my life.” Peter looked at him curiously. He loved it when Chris’ fingers were in his hair and he would never ever admit it.

A little too much actually.

“And now you’re bonded to me.”

“Yes, thanks for that reminder.” Peter grunted.

Chris sighed. “Always with a comeback. What am I going to do with you? It’ll just get worse. We have to deal with this.”

“It’s working out so far,” Peter said defensively.

“You avoiding me until it’s absolutely necessary is not a solution, Peter.”

“It is for me!” Peter wanted to shove him away but he didn’t want to upset Chris. “Do you have any idea how difficult this is for me?”

“Yes, I’m well aware of how much you hate it.” Chris grimaced slightly. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to avoid me. All you have to do is text me when and where and I will come to you.”

Peter looked somewhat taken aback. “Really?”

“Yes,” Chris promised. “I’m responsible for you now.”

“So if I need you at three in the morning, you’ll come to me?” Peter settled back against Chris.

“Peter…” Chris chuckled. “It _is_ three in the morning.”

“Huh,” Peter glanced at the time. “So it is.”

Well now _this_ was an interesting development. He would enjoy having Chris at his beck and call. Peter grinned to himself. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all? He could cope if it meant that Chris also had to give up his priorities. Honestly being Chris’ number one priority made him feel warm inside. It was a sweet sensation and he liked it a lot.  Chris resumed petting his hair and Peter felt his whole body calm. Sleep tugged at his brain and he succumbed to its pull.

*

Later Melissa tiptoed down the hallway to check out her house guests. She was pleased to see that Chris was lying sound asleep on the sofa with Peter curled up on top of him.  She had just come down to offer another pillow, honestly. They seem to have worked it out on their own so she slunk back to her bedroom with a grin. As long as Peter kept his mouth under control things might work out. Chris deserved it. He’d been through so much and she knew… she knew deep down there was a part of Peter who did as well. She couldn’t imagine what he had gone through. She was glad he was better now. Scott needed a mentor and Derek… Derek was too filled with self-loathing. Peter could be good for Scott if he would just get his head out of his ass.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think.:) Enjoy

Peter woke up late in the morning draped over Chris.  The hunter had a cup of coffee and was reading a book while still sprawled on the couch so that Peter had access to him.

“Hm, you’re awake finally.” Chris stretched. “Thank god, my leg was cramping. Melissa’s gone to work and Scott’s gone to school. Want some coffee?”

Peter reluctantly untangled himself from Chris. “It’s almost noon, why didn’t you wake me up? Yes, please.”

“You needed sleep.” Chris shrugged and rubbed his thigh to get the blood circulating.

Peter watched him rise up and head to the kitchen. He still felt lethargic and comfortable so he burrowed back down in the blanket that had both his and Chris’ scents mixed together. He was in love with the blanket and wondered if Melissa would mind terribly if he pilfered it.  

“You can go if I’m keeping you from anything.” Peter offered from underneath the blanket.

Chris came back and crouched down to pull the blanket off of Peter’s head. He had a mug in his other hand and offered it. “You’re not.”   He watched while Peter sipped the coffee gratefully. Their fingers briefly touched. “Do you feel better?”

“Much.” Peter nodded and could not help feeling a little embarrassed. “Chris?”

“Hm?” Chris sat back down on the other end of the couch.

“Do you think it would be okay if I moved in with you?” Peter asked hesitantly. “At least until this either gets under control or wears off? Or you get me out of it?”

Chris stared at him with a blank expression. “I’d have to ask Allison.”

“Of course,” Peter stammered. He sipped more coffee, unsure of how that popped into his head. It made sense though. If he had access to Chris every night it wouldn’t be as bad. He could make it through. “Just temporary. I wouldn’t ask normally, of course.” He gave a little laugh. “But last night was rough, I was getting sick and avoiding you just makes it worse.”

Chris rubbed his temple as though he might be getting a headache. “I’ll ask Allison,” he nodded finally. “If she is okay with it you can have the guest room.”

Peter brightened up and smiled.  “Thank you.” 

Chris stared at him again, and Peter didn’t understand why he looked so tense. The hunter drew in a long shaky breath.

Peter could get lost in Chris’ eyes, they drew him in like nothing else. But like most things in his life when it got too much to handle he deflected it, ignored it or killed it.   “I can’t believe I’m asking if I can move in with two hunters.” He made a ridiculous face and complained, “My life sucks.”

Chris’ face relaxed a little and he laughed softly. “Don’t shed on the furniture, do your share of the housework and we’ll be fine.”

Peter looked stunned, “You don’t hire a maid?”

Chris face-palmed.

*

Allison did not like this plan at all and she was vocal about it but in the end she had acquiesced to her father. That’s why when Peter showed up at the door with two suitcases she almost slammed it in his face. Instead she swung it open and let it hit the wall. “You know where the guest room is. Dad’s out but he’ll be back in a half an hour.”

Instead of helping Peter she headed to the living room where she and Scott had been watching TV. Peter sighed and piled up the cases in the room he’d be living in. He couldn’t deny that he was nervous. The room itself wasn’t small at least. There was a window with a view and a private bathroom. It wasn’t anything like the bathroom at his apartment but it was functional. He wouldn’t be here that long. He put his favorite pillow in its proper place on the bed and tried an armchair in the room.

Ten minutes passed and he began to be acutely aware that he wasn’t in a private retreat. He could hear Scott and Allison in the living room. He wasn’t alone. He liked being alone! He didn’t know what had possessed him to do this. It was a terrible idea.

Twenty minutes passed. He had taken all the clothes out of the bags and started to put them up. He promptly threw them all back into the suitcases again.

Thirty minutes passed, he zipped up the bag and tried to figure out how he could make it past Allison and Scott without them noticing.

He heard the elevators ding and he knew Chris was back. He walked in the front door and set groceries down in the kitchen. He heard Chris putting things away in the fridge and talk to Allison and Scott briefly.

“Set the table? I’m going to make spaghetti. Is he here?” Chris asked Allison.

“He’s here.” Allison nodded. “Sure, I’ll take care of the table.”

“Huh,” Chris exhaled. “I expected him to make up an excuse.”

“You know he can hear everything you’re saying?” Scott called from the living room.

Peter unzipped his bags quickly and began to throw things out to make it look like he was still unpacking.

“If you’re hungry come here and make yourself useful, Peter.” Chris didn’t even bother shouting.

Peter drummed his fingers on the bureau nervously. The last time he did anything domestic was… before the fire. He swallowed and steeled himself. He would not get spooked. He would do his utmost to be normal. He plastered on a smirk and walked out. “Like _you_ have any idea of the proper way to make spaghetti.” Peter loomed in the doorway of the kitchen. It was a big kitchen, open to the dining room and the living room beyond where Scott lounged on the couch.

Chris smirked at Peter.  “I’ve been cooking for years. You’re just picky. How about you wash your hands and make the salad?” He directed Peter at a bag of fresh vegetables.

Allison placed four mats down on the table and looked over at the pair of them. Her eyes rested on Peter mainly, clearly uncomfortable with his presence. Her eyebrows lifted when Peter did exactly what Chris asked him to do. She leaned down to Scott.

“What do you think?” Allison prodded Scott’s shoulder to make him turn around.

They watched as Peter casually chopped vegetables for the salad and Chris cooked up the spaghetti. The pair of them maneuvered around the kitchen easily and somewhat awkwardly. Peter could feel their eyes on him and he was consciously aware that this was a test.

“I think your father should say something.” Scott said bluntly. “Because Peter clearly isn’t getting the very obvious blinking bright and neon message in the room.”

Allison smacked him upside the head.

“Ow…hey. What? It’s true! He’s the King of oblivious!”

Allison smacked him again for good measure.

Peter could hear, naturally but Chris was ignoring the children. What message? He chopped at the tomatoes while he looked over at the hunter again. Chris smiled at him approvingly. And Jesus Christ that _smile_. He felt like he’d been hit in the gut or just run over with a semi-truck. He’d been in the middle of chopping up a carrot and he’d never had anyone look at him like that. He tried to reason it out but he couldn’t. Chris was looking at him with a sort of odd mixture of exasperation, pride and pleasure. There was a sparkle in his eyes as though he loved the fact that Peter was there, chopping up a freaking carrot in his kitchen.

The crazy part was that smile made Peter feel warm inside. It wrapped around him like a blanket and tightened securely. It was both protective and something else. It felt _good_ to make Chris happy. His energy soared. He finished up the salad and was intensely glad he’d come. “Anything else I can do?” He tossed the salad in the bowl, met Chris’ eyes and returned the smile. Chris raised his eyebrows then frowned. A mask fell over his face and the smile was gone.

What had he done? Peter blinked in confusion as he felt a headache lash his brain. “Ow…fuck.”

“Shit…” Chris exhaled. “Sorry. It’s nothing you did just…” He reached over and put his hand over Peter’s. “It’s everything.” He rubbed Peter’s fingers as he tried to deal with whatever he was dealing with. “I love it when you smile at me.”

The confession caused Peter’s eyes to widen in surprise. “What do you mean?” Chris was somehow unhappy and he could tell because the pain was getting worse. “Why does it make you unhappy when I smile at you?”

“Because I know you normally wouldn’t!” The words burst out of his mouth before Chris could stop them. “I know that normally you would walk the other way when you see me. I know you would rather use that knife on my throat. I know you would rather be anywhere else in the world than here. If you could be, you be in a completely different city miles away. You’re only here because you have to be and I would appreciate it if you didn’t smile at me like we’re friends. We’re not friends. You hate me.”

“Dad…” Allison gave her father a worried look as she rose from the couch.

“And even if you said anything now?” Chris ran a hand through his hair. “How do I know it’s not just the bond talking? How can I trust anything you say? Any look?”

“Dad. Settle down, you’re hurting Peter.” Allison grasped her father’s arm.

It was true, Peter had staggered back against the kitchen counter and was barely keeping himself upright.

Chris gazed at Allison, realization dawning. He closed his eyes and sighed as his daughter wrapped her arms around him and hugged tightly. He took a few deep breaths and collected himself. “I’m going to my room. Enjoy dinner.”  With that, he turned and walked away.

“Dad?” Allison started after him but he put up a hand clearly indicating he wanted to be alone.

Peter straightened as soon as he felt the pain lesson. “What’s wrong with him?” He wondered.

“You are the most obtuse, idiotic, self-centered, exasperating, poor excuse for a werewolf I’ve ever met!” Allison snarled at him. “I should put an arrow in your head and put you out of our misery. You should have stayed dead! My father could have coped with that.” Before he could put up a defense, Allison swung her fist and nailed him in the jaw.

“Allison, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Peter put his arms up to defend himself but he wasn’t going to hit her back. Not with Scott standing there.

“He’s in love with you.” Allison spat. “Has been for… he didn’t tell me how long exactly but it’s been a while.”

“What?” Peter blinked inanely.

“This bond? It has been worse on him than you. You know? He wants to be near you but it’s killing him to know you’re only doing this because you have to. He’d do anything for you, you stupid fuck!” Allison wasn’t letting Peter off lightly. “And you treat him like it’s all a big joke and he’s your own personal teddy bear. What’s worse?” Allison threw up her hands. “Everyone sees it but you. Hell, Mrs McCall tried to tell you.”

Peter looked over at Scott who was helping himself to a plate of spaghetti because why waste good food?

“It was a pretty epic kiss, Peter.” Scott nodded in confirmation. “Mr Argent clearly has feelings for you. We could all tell.”

Peter stroked his chin as he tried to process this information. “He thinks I hate him.”

“Do you?” Allison gripped a knife.

“I thought he hated _me_.” Peter said lamely. “I did kill his sister. I mean…I was insane and hell bent on revenge…but still… Are you certain about this?” Peter frowned at Allison.

“Yes.” Allison hissed between her teeth.

“I don’t hate him.” Peter quickly replied to her question because he had feeling she’d hit him again otherwise.

“Then stop fucking around and tell him.” Allison stepped out of the way.

Peter slowly rubbed the back of his neck, “So that’s why…” Things were falling into place. At the loft every time he’d talk about being with other people or flirted with Melissa it had made Chris unhappy and he’d get a lash of pain to the skull.

“Now you’re getting it.” Allison nodded.

Peter pushed himself away from the counter and headed down the hallway. “Christopher!” He pounded on the bedroom door. “Open up.”

“Go away,” Chris responded sharply.

 “Christopher. I’m in love with you.” Peter leaned one hand against the door. “I thought I had no chance and that there was nothing for me in Beacon Hills so that’s why I left to The City. This isn’t the bond talking. I swear.”

The door opened and Chris looked at Peter dubiously. Before any words could fuck things up between them Peter barged in, grasped Chris by the shirt and planted a kiss on him.

Chris didn’t object but that might be because he was too surprised.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think.:)

Chris staggered back under Peter’s onslaught. He accepted the kiss and winced as Peter broke it only to kick the door shut. The wolf was on his lips again, lapped and swirled his tongue inside. At last given access, he wanted to learn every contour of Chris’ mouth and what it was capable of.  “Chris…Christopher….” He tugged at Chris’ bottom lip and whined, eyes dark and blown with lust. He supposed his lack of control was partially due to the bond but he could not wait to get naked.  He held Chris’ cheeks with his hands and gazed at him. He ran his fingers back from Chris’ cheeks to the sides of his head and through his hair and back down his neck.  “Please say something.”

Chris stared at him, his eyes a mixture of shock and pleasure. “I’ve… wanted this for so long.” He swallowed and searched Peter’s eyes. “You never looked at me twice.” He stood there sort of slack and in shock throughout the kiss until he remembered he had hands. He lifted up one to rest on Peter’s chest as if he was afraid if he touched, he’d wake up.

“Well, one…” Peter lifted one finger, “you’re a hunter. Two, I had convinced myself I would have to be the last person in the world before you’d date me. Three, I had no idea you weren’t entirely straight.” At the third explanation he captured Chris’ chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Because if I had known and if I had any sign…I’d have been on you faster than you could pull out a gun.” He kissed Chris again, sucking hard on his tongue. As he pulled off, he nipped Chris’ lower lip slightly. He wanted to see it swell from a thorough ravaging…in fact he desperately wanted to mark Chris. The feeling surged through him like a tidal wave and his eyes got darker and darker. That was the bond. It was making it hard for him to think….he wanted to just do. “I…” he blinked slowly. “Fuck.” The spell wanted him to go down on his knees … do anything Chris wanted, bare himself completely. Chaotic images shuffled through his mind of the many, many things he would let Chris do.

“Peter?” Chris kept him upright as he held on to his shirt.

It was overwhelming and he was terrified of how much power Chris had over him right now. Part of him wanted to flee, but the other part was drawn in by the man’s eyes. Chris wouldn’t use it against him. “Do you have any idea what I’d let you do right now?” Peter rasped.

“I’m getting a clue.” Chris fiddled with the three buttons on Peter’s shirt. His fingers danced in circles against Peter’s skin. “Part of it is the spell.” His voice was filled with worry as he spoke. He trailed his fingers down Peter’s chest to his belt buckle and pulled out his shirt. He bunched the bottom of Peter’s shirt with his fists and yanked it up and over his head. It caused the werewolf’s hair to get slightly out of place.

Peter growled.

Chris’ dragged his fingers up from Peter’s stomach, over his abs…up to his chest. He thumbed lightly over tight nipples and mapped his shoulders and arm muscles. “God… you’re amazing. I’ve just…” he swallowed. “God, Peter. You have no idea how many nights I’ve lain awake thinking about this.”

Peter’s pupils were blown wide with lust. He gave a helpless whine. “Do something…anything…” His body trembled with want.

Chris’ shifted slightly so that he could unbuckle Peter’s belt but he stopped short of working open a button and looked up at Peter. He knew it would be wrong of him to continue. Peter would give him anything right now and that’s what made him stop. He would subconsciously feel an incredible need to please Chris once they started doing this and wouldn’t care about his own desires. Fortunately, he was an Argent and knew how spells worked. “What do you like?” Chris asked softly. “What do you want to do? It would…” Chris knew exactly how to play this to make sure that he was giving Peter what he would normally want. “It would please me to give you what you like.” Fucking witches, spells could be handled but it was delicate.

“My dick in your mouth.” Peter said almost immediately as if it was a thought from the back of his brain that just popped out of his lips. He stared at Chris in amazement and then chuckled low. “You tricked the spell. I’m impressed.”

“Give me a few minutes you’ll be more than a little impressed.” Chris sank to his knees as Peter stared at him in disbelief.

It wasn’t long before Peter had his hands in Chris’ hair and braced himself on his powerful thighs while the hunter’s mouth was filled. He had to admit his surprise at Chris’ skill when it came to blow-jobs. He was quite the master at it. It kind of made Peter a little bit jealous at where he’d learned it. “Christopher…” He bleated the man’s name as he fucked harder. Chris took him in like he was candy.  His mouth would be so deliciously swollen after this. That’s what Peter wanted to see. He wanted His cum on Chris’ lips, inside him … smeared across his chest. He wanted to wrap himself up in both their scents and just stay there forever. Safe and happy. He closed his eyes and licked his lips…. He could feel the euphoria descend on him he howled. He didn’t care that Scott and Allison were still in the apartment. He didn’t care that the Alpha would know what had just happened. He wanted to shout it to the world.

He belonged to Christopher Argent, heart and soul until the end of his days.

Chris didn’t pull off, he drank down all that Peter had to give. He did sputter a bit and gag…but he didn’t pull off. While Peter still rode the high of orgasm he pulled off his cock and rose to his feet to claim Peter’s lips.

Tasting himself undid Peter. “Fuck me…” he whispered.

Chris was only too happy to oblige.

They didn’t emerge until the morning when Chris went to make coffee. Scott and Allison had already left and Peter was rather glad of that. He stood and accepted the coffee because sitting was a bit impossible for the moment. Things still ached a little. He gave a happy smile when Chris scratched at his beard.

“Well…that was a thing that bears repeating if you’re up to it.” The hunter smirked.

“Oh yes…” Peter put down his coffee and crowded into Chris’ personal space. He stared possessively as he drank in the disheveled look. Chris’ lips were exactly how he’d longed to see them, all full and bruised. His neck was a mass of hickies and bruises. He leaned down to kiss one of them gently. “I’m sorry I was rough.”

“I don’t mind,” Chris caressed his cheek. “I love you how you are, Peter.”

Peter wasn’t used to hearing those words so it threw him off for a minute. Then he smiled like the sun. “Fuck the spell. I _want_ to make you happy, Christopher. I want to be bonded to you.”

“Remind me to find that witch and thank her.” Chris chuckled.

Peter gave him an affronted look.

“Alright, Alright. We’ll find her and kill her if she doesn’t cure you.” Chris petted Peter’s hair.

Oddly, Peter realized he wasn’t feeling a supernatural draw towards Chris after that day. They chanced to find the witch and she told them the spell was already broken.

“What? How?” Peter stared.

“You said the magic words.” The witch shrugged. “You said you wanted to make Christopher Happy in spite of the spell. That broke it and now you have a true bond.”

“I still want to kill her.” Peter gave Chris a plaintive look.

“Far be it from me to stop you from doing something that makes you happy, Peter.” Christopher grinned at the wolf. “She is a witch and she’s hurt people. She’ll hurt more innocent people.”

Peter’s claws came out and blood washed the forest floor. “Still love me?”

“Always.” Chris nodded softly. "Still love to be in my personal space?"

Peter grin was an eerie combination of feral and delighted. "Yes."

**FIN**


End file.
